


Vogue

by orphan_account



Series: He's no Angel but He's Mine. [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Funny, Gay, M/M, My First Series, One of many - Freeform, Other, Pride, cha-cha is mentioned, hazel is high, i guess, q-slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 13:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21077912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I rewatched UA. I love Hazel. I have an account. Yeehaw.





	Vogue

_**N**_ot only did Hazel not know what he got himself into, but he also knew that once he found out, explaining it to Cha-Cha would kill him if nothing out here did first. He was tripping balls from a weed brownie he'd gotten from a far-too-kind stranger in a tie-dye sweatshirt. He saw fabric and rainbows and all body parts of _very _flamboyant humans of all types dancing and grinding against him every chance they got. He had no idea where he was, but he slowly realized that he was standing amid very prideful folks, all slathered in various shades of colours, loose-fitting a short clothing, in the middle of June. How was he going to explain this to Cha-cha? _'Hey, C! I got high and stumbled into a pride fest.' _Sounds like an excuse he'd make up to get out of work. Which, if it wasn't currently happening, he would have used.

"Hey there, you look a bit lost..." He felt a hand on his arm, looked to his left and saw a slightly younger, very strategically dressed man with bright, pastel pink hair. "Do ya need some help?" This was the second kindest stranger he has met all day, at least this stranger had a face you can trust and rely on, which, in Hazel's state, he _really_ needs right now. He nodded obliviously, and let the younger man take him away from the colour fest of a party and into a more quiet, still extremely colourful place. He sat on the nearest soft object and groaned, his feet were killing him, apparently. He was so high he wouldn't notice if he'd gone bald. He touched his head, and yes. Still there.

"I don't usually bring oddly misplaced men into my house," The other man in the room started, walking around and tidying up, then swiftly shuffling his way into the kitchen. "Yet you looked like you didn't belong there. Y'know...full suit and dress shoes in June with not a single flag on you..." Hazel looked at his current outfit, as in, what he always wears cause of his stuffy job. Oh. Maybe he _did_ stick out like a sore thumb in a place full of sore thumbs. "You don't seem to be able to talk...are you mute? Or...maybe you are confused as to why a black genderqueer man has you sitting on his couch..." Hazel watched as the younger of the two swivelled around the messily placed furniture like a trained ballet dancer, then trip over his own feet and yelp like a lost puppy. All he could muster was a snort, he didn't want to laugh but that was kinda funny.

The younger man shook his head and grumbled. Something about bears and attitude, at least that's what Hazel heard. A few minutes of awkward shuffling and slow breathing later, and Hazel felt himself getting lifted once again. 

"Alright, dude. You are gonna rest on my bed. I have work to do tonight so I won't be in there. Take off that stupid suit, it is June after all, and get some rest." He was shoved into a room decorated with flags and posters of all types. Cozy. He began to take off his suit jacket as he surveyed the place. He heard the other man mention coffee and heard the door slam. But at that point he was already in bed, pants half off and knocked out cold. Cha-Cha will kill him, but that is a problem for future Hazel.

_**H**_azel woke up in a daze, his head pounding and the taste of chocolate and cannabis. Sitting up did not make his confusion any better. Half naked in a room he doesn't recall, the smell of coffee and maple syrup filling the air. Did he...? No, he couldn't have. He has self-control. Then again he doesn't remember much from yesterday. Thinking back...all he did was find a stranger on the road offering brownies. **Weed **brownies. Oh no, he's slept with someone while high. Now his head is wracking up with how many things can go wrong and how long he's going to live before an STD or Cha-Cha kills him. Then he smells the food again. In an attempt to hopefully find answers, he gets up from the plush bed, pulls his pants on and walks to the source. There he sees a fully clothed-thank god-man standing in front of what he can only assume to be a modern stove burner. He stared for a while, at the man's humming and gyrating hip movements. As he flipped pancakes with precision while also moving along to whatever pop song was in his head. It could be the weed still in his system or his headache but Hazel swore he finally found out what love meant at that moment. He shook his head, now wasn't the time for any of that. He cleared his throat to alert the other of his presence. Then sat at the table, waiting for answers.

"Oh! Hey, you woke up. I made coffee like I promised, if you want a cup." He gestured to the freshly made pot of coffee, still steaming and probably hot to the touch. Hazel licked his lips in reply, causing the man to grab a mug that said 'UNT' on it, and pouring the liquid into it. With the mug in front of him, along with a supply of many types of sweeteners, he began to brew his caffeine-filled concoction, and drink it just as fast. Now, he wanted answers. He waited until the other sat down, and began asking questions.

"What did we do last night? Who are you? Did you drug me? Why am I here?!" Hazel spat out in a panic, reminding himself to breathe, and watched as the other man calmly ate with no problems, no stress and obviously no guilt.

"First off, yes, Nice to meet you too. I'm Kass." He spoke with a firey, playful sarcasm in his voice. "You fell asleep because you were most likely high by something I did not give you because I have no weed or anything on me at all. You are in my house because you likely didn't know you were standing in the middle of the queer equivalent of a mosh pit." The man, who Hazel now knows is Kass, sips his coffee in silence as Hazel processes what he just heard.

"Hazel," He spoke up, taking a sip of his now warm coffee. "'Names Hazel..." He repeated, causing Kass to smile. "Good to know you can speak," He chuckles. "I'm assuming you have places to be though since you look so businessy..." Kass stood up, clearing the table and running a hand through his curly hair. "But hey, If you are ever in town again, Hazel..." He handed him a slip of paper. "You can just call me." He winked. _Winked! _At Hazel before handing him his now freshly cleaned suit jacket, and walking to the door.

"Right, yea. Th-thank you, Kass...for letting me in your house?" He stood at the door for a while, looking at the younger man until his phone buzzed. "Ah, sorry tha's my coworker. She...really cares about this job so...yea I'll see you...I hope..." He smiled at Kass as the door closed and he walked away.

"Oh my god...Cha-Cha is going to kill me for this."

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated very slowly as it takes a while to make a plot-relevant and thriving story


End file.
